


Soft Notes Of A Piano

by Tassledown



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Antonio's a terrible Catholic, Apologies, Crusades mention, Fluffy, Jewish Austria, M/M, WWII mention, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-23 23:03:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4895704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tassledown/pseuds/Tassledown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Directly follows the fic "After Franco")</p><p>Spain has a lot of former friends and lovers he wants to catch up with now that he can go back to his life again, and Austria is very high on the list. After talking to France, he's only more worried than before about if it will go well or not.</p><p>There's only so much someone can forgive after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soft Notes Of A Piano

Roderich's house looked like it was missing things when Antonio arrived, things he'd expected him to still have around. What the things had been was escaping him and he pushed it out of his mind to go find him in the piano room, where he could hear him playing. Things disappeared over the decades; that kind of thing just happened.

Antonio stopped at the door to the piano room to just watch him play. To his relief, Roderich looked well – much better than when he'd seen him last. It was hard to find a Nation in a worse state than having just lost a massive war. It'd been more than half a century since the Great War – the first world war, Antonio corrected himself to, tiredly amused at the habit.

He looked Roderich over for a distraction and his mouth twitched. Roderich was wearing trousers and a fitted shirt that looked hardly different from what he'd been wearing then as well. Antonio was pretty confident the fabric had changed, at least, seeing as they weren't worn enough to be that old – even Roderich couldn't keep fabric intact that long. He shook off the thought and walked into the room to sit down on the chair set off to one side for exactly that purpose. 

A few minutes later, Roderich finished playing the piece and turned to smile at him.

“Antonio. It's good to see you again.” 

“It's good to see you as well.” Antonio licked his lips cautiously; Roderich looked uncomfortably wary. “I was wondering how you'd recovered. I heard the last war was no better than the first one for you.”

Roderich smiled politely. “I've been well for a few years now, like the rest of Europe.” 

“So Francois said, but I still wanted to see you myself.” 

Roderich stiffened enough Antonio looked down at his hands in his lap, to give him that privacy.

“I see,” Roderich said stiffly. “What else did he tell you?”

“He caught me up on... more of the specifics of what happened in the second war.” Antonio licked his lips. “I'm sorry about what happened to you.”

“It's in the past.”

Antonio laughed and looked up again, smiling at him blindly even as his stomach pinched. “Oh, yeah. Lots of things are in the past, Roderich. Doesn't make them go away.”

“A lot of what?” Roderich turned on the bench with a frown, the wariness retreating for the moment.

“I had a lot of time to think.” Antonio shrugged, dampening the smile to something more honest. “You know I never left the country while Franco was in power. I never actually left the – the base. My cell. We never saw eye to eye.”

Roderich tilted his head. “You were fighting him the entire time?”

Antonio grinned. “Yeah, I was. Took me long enough to do it, y'know. Have you seen Gil since the war?”

“Sometimes,” Roderich studied his hands. “When I last say him, he was well and not arrested. None of the Soviet States cross the iron curtain freely.”

“What about Erzsebet?”

Roderich relaxed minutely again and smiled fondly. “She comes to see me often, yes. Russland does not try to stop her.

“It's safer for everyone that way, isn't it? I remember how she would make anyone regret holding her.”

“She has not changed.” Roderich sighed. “Did Francois tell you that I'm Jewish, Antonio?”

“He did,” Antonio bit his lip. “I'm sorry, I don't know how you ever tolerated me.”

“What do you mean?”

Antonio could hear the caution in Roderich's voice and he looked away. The thought of his expression made his stomach shrivel, because it was entirely justified. “I'm sorry I was... like I was. Intolerant. Obsessed. I didn't think other people had souls, Roderich. Any other people. And that was...” 'a sin' was completely inappropriate, and 'a tragedy' trite. There wasn't enough words to convey this. “It was wrong, and you're a better man than I am for tolerating it.”

“I didn't tolerate it,” Roderich said. “I didn't have any choice.”

Antonio swallowed and looked up. Roderich was staring back at him, his hands folded in his lap – not folded: twisted and white-knuckled. Antonio nodded.

“You're right,” he said softly. “You didn't, and I'm sorry.”

“I'm not the person you need forgiveness from, Antonio.”

Antonio startled and laughed. “God, Roderich, I know that. There's no one left to forgive me for that. I killed them all, didn't I? How did you ever get over this with Gil? I have no idea.”

Roderich half-smiled. “I haven't fully, not yet. He's been... better.”

“Better.” Antonio leaned on his knees and laughed again, unable to keep his reactions even without it. “I guess that's one word for it, isn't it?” He exhaled loudly and turned his face up again. “I wanted to come see you again. I missed you.”

“Thank you,” Roderich said. “If that was what you wanted to say...”

“No, it wasn't, but I can go if you want quiet again.” Antonio softened his eyes and smiled tiredly at him. “I really did just want to see you again. I'm a terrible person; I admite that. I'm not even a good Catholic in modern terms, but if the worst thing I keep from before – the only thing I plan to keep – is loving too many people I think I'm okay with that.”

Roderich's breath caught and he glanced back to his music, turning the page and hovering a finger down the lines. He looked at Antonio and then turned away from him sharply to start playing, his hands shaking on the keys. 

For his part, Antonio leaned back into the chair quietly. He hadn't asked him to leave. He crossed his hands over his stomach and watched Roderich play, hoping it was helping him to think. Hoping this wasn't just him avoiding asking him to leave. He hadn't told him to, and so he didn't go – didn't leave. Roderich had never had a problem with that before.

He'd already been to see Francois and Lovino, but neither of them had surprised him or really been someone he'd been worried about. Francois had been his friendly, cheerful self, eager to show him around his cities and all the new sights that had been built. Lovino had screamed at him and then not let him out of his sight for a week. Gilbert was out of his reach. 

Roderich fell deeper into his music and his shoulders relaxed. Antonio watched him play and waited, content just to see that he could relax around him at all. He caught Roderich's eye as he glanced his way and smiled fondly back at him. 

The song finished, and Roderich's hands stilled on the keys, his face relaxed and thoughtful. “Did you bring your guitar?”

“I haven't finished finding everything at home again. Only some of my things made it into storage when my place was occupied by someone else.”

“There should be one you can use in the wardrobe by the picture window.”

Antonio quickly got to his feet and went to pull it out. He eyed the two in question but went with the first one he'd picked up. He took it back to the chair and shot Roderich a fond look all over again as his hands found their way around the new instrument. 

“Do you still play?” Antonio asked, feeling the touches that made the guitar Roderich's under his hands. 

“When I can.” Roderich said softly. “I'd like to hear you play for me, though.”

Antonio softened his eyes and smiled. “What would you like to hear?”

**Author's Note:**

> For those wondering about Jewish Austria, in the 19th century Vienna was at one point as much as 1/4 Jewish and has always been a city with a large amount of travel and trade.
> 
> It is very late and I'm in no state to explain the rest. They're just supposed to be cute at each other.


End file.
